


Tea

by Cdelphiki



Series: Exiled Robins [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Damian likes Tea, Dimension Travel, Gen, Multiverse, Tim is trying, damian being moody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-16 13:59:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16087550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cdelphiki/pseuds/Cdelphiki
Summary: Tim and Damian have been trapped in this alternate universe for a month and a half, and Damian is hating every second of it.  If only Drake weren't such an insufferable pest, ordering him around as if he were an adult and Damian a mere child.  Where did the teen get off acting like that?This is a one-shot that accompaniesLife Happens.





	Tea

Walking home from school was one of Damian’s favorite things to do. For starters, it meant he was free from the ridiculous activity Drake insisted he attend for the rest of the day. Secondly, it was pretty much the only time of the day he had the freedom to do as he pleased. Yeah, he had to go home, but there was no rule on which path he had to take, no one watching his every step, and no annoying teenagers pretending to be ‘family’ there to bother him.

School had been in session barely two weeks and Damian already hated it. Upholding his promise to Drake and the school officials of ‘trying harder’ and not becoming involved in altercations was harder than he had originally thought. Some of the students were just downright annoying, but thankfully none of them were brave enough to assault him physically. It had spread throughout the entire school how violent he was, after all. Damian wasn’t sure where the rumors that he’d beat up the principal came from, but in the end he didn’t really care. His school was filled with stupid little children. It didn’t matter that said stupid little children didn’t want to go near him.

To make matters worse, his teacher was one of those stupidly sweet, kind, condescending without meaning, probably, and overly forgiving people. It annoyed Damian to no end. At least he’d convinced her to stop calling him ‘sweetie.’

All his complaints about the school distracted him from listening to his music during his walk home. He often worked through his frustrations during his walk, pretending to put together a speech to present to Drake about why attending school was just a waste of time. Knowing the former Robin, though, Damian was well aware that his breath would be wasted. Drake was too much like his father, in that respect. He’d never actually hear Damian out. Once Drake made up his mind, it was made up. It didn’t matter what Damian wanted.

Stupid Drake.

Damian nearly tripped trying to avoid an elderly woman as she walked out of the grocery store he was passing. She had two paper bags of groceries in her arms, blocking her view of the ground in front of her and of Damian, so it was actually her fault Damian nearly tripped.

Stupid old woman.

Closing his eyes, Damian bit back every insulting comment that rose to the surface.

_Dami, that is no way to speak to a stranger._

Grayson. Ugh. Grayson would probably offer the woman assistance and become her new best friend.

Dammit.

“Do you require assistance?” Damian asked haughtily as he pulled his earbuds out and shoved them into his hoody pocket.

“What?” the old woman exclaimed, shifting her body around so she could see Damian around the bags, “Oh, hello there dear. Yes, how kind of you to offer. I wasn’t sure I was going to make it back home by myself. Here.”

The boy rolled his eyes as he took the offered grocery bag from the woman’s arms. Great. When offered help, one is meant to reject the offer. That is the American custom, is it not?

“You’re such a sweetheart,” the woman gushed, “your brother must be so proud of you.”

Damian scowled at the term of endearment then raised an eyebrow at the implication of what she’d said. Most people said something along the lines of ‘your parents’ to children, but this woman had specifically said ‘your brother.’

“You are the little boy who lives downstairs, yes? In 4C?” she asked, proceeding down the street toward their, apparently, building.

Unsure of how to respond, Damian just shrugged. He really shouldn’t be telling strangers where he lived. Besides, he was not at all interested in having a conversation with this old hag. Really, he wasn’t even sure why he was helping her with her groceries.

_Because it would make Grayson proud._

Damian growled at his inner thoughts. He did not need that man’s approval. He needed no one’s approval.

“Oh, sorry sweetie. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just hard to not know you two are in the building. You’ve been quite loud on a number of occasions and my apartment is directly above yours.”

Damian wasn’t sure if he should be embarrassed, sorry, or angry, so he went with the emotion with which he was most familiar. “Are you the one who called the police on us, then?” he asked evenly.

“Dear me, no. I heard that spat between you two, it seemed like your brother had it under control.” The woman paused, then turned her tone sharp, “You know, you shouldn’t treat him that way. He’s your guardian and you need to show him respect.”

“Tt,” Damian huffed, “You don’t know anything, woman.”

“Young man,” she admonished, “I was a social worker for 50 years. I know far more than you’d think.”

“Hmph.” Damian readjusted the bag in his arms as he rolled his eyes.

“I’m Martha Harrelson,” she said, softening her face with a kind smile.

Damian rolled his eyes. “Damian Wagner.”

“Wagner,” she hummed, “That’s a good name. It means wagon maker.”

“I am aware,” Damian drawled. That was why he had picked the name. It had the same meaning as ‘Wayne.’

“Oh honey,” she said, “you are going to drop that attitude right this instant.”

Damian sighed. He was so sick of adults speaking down to him. He was not a ‘honey,’ or ‘sweetie,’ or ‘sweetheart,’ or any other ridiculous moniker this woman and other adults decided to dub him.

The one thing Drake had going for him was he didn’t call him ridiculous cutesy nicknames. He just called him kid. Brat. Demon.

Okay, those were worse. Drake had nothing going for him.

“So why do you and your brother argue so loudly?” she asked after a couple minutes of quiet walking.

“Drake is an imbecile.”

“Is that so,” she said, not even trying to hide her amusement, “Give him a break, dear. This can’t be easy on him, having to be an adult all of a sudden and take care of both himself and you. Worrying about food and rent, school and work, and taking care of a kid brother. How old is he? 16?”

“18,” Damian corrected, refusing to meet the woman’s gaze. Drake was loving their new life. It wasn’t hard on him. Yeah, okay so he cried that one time about it, but that was probably more because Damian had pushed his buttons too much and got the police called on them. He had been perfectly happy after they watched a movie together and had been chipper since.

Stupid Drake and his stupid good moods all the time.

“I’ve seen plenty of teenagers pretending to be older than they are in my lifetime, I know he’s not 18. I won’t rat you two out if you don’t give me a reason, dear.”

Damian rolled his eyes again.

“This is nothing new for him,” Damian snapped, “before my father so kindly took him in he was taking care of himself. The only thing new about this situation is he thinks he can boss me around because he’s older.”

“And you don’t like him bossing you around,” Ms. Harrelson observed.

“Tt,” Damian clicked, “I can take care of myself. I do not need his nagging.”

“Your brother cares about you, that’s why he nags. That’s why anyone ever nags.”

“He is not my brother,” Damian growled. Who the hell did this woman think she was, anyway? Damian had half a mind to throw her groceries on the ground and stomp off. But that would be a bad idea. She knew where he lived. She’d probably tell Drake. Damian huffed a frustrated breath and scowled at the predicament he’d gotten himself into. This was all Grayson’s fault.

The woman laughed as she stopped at a corner to wait for traffic. “Is that so? He’s just watching after some random child then? Did he kidnap you? Do I need to call the police?”

Damian rolled his eyes at her jesting tone. “He was one of my father’s charity cases. The most pathetic of the lot, at that.”

“Adopted siblings are still siblings, dear, and clearly Drake loves you as a brother.”

The crosswalk sign changed to ‘walk,’ so Damian stalked across the street, fuming. He wanted out of this conversation. This woman knew nothing. His building was half a block away now. He was almost home. He could dump this woman’s bag off at her door and retreat to his apartment. Finally.

“Think about this,” she said as she typed in her code to open the building’s door, “once you leave your parent’s house, every relationship in your life is completely voluntary.”

“That is a lie,” Damian declared.

Ms. Harrelson shook her head, “There are no laws saying you have to keep in touch with your family once you leave home. If a relationship is not voluntary, then you’re a hostage and you really do need the police. Yes, you are required to interact with people you dislike on a daily basis. That’s part of being human, but no one requires you live with them or even have regular contact.”

“I was never given an option.”

“You are still a child, whether you want to believe that or not. If you are truly unhappy living with Drake, I still have plenty of friends at ACS and can get you in contact with someone who can help you out.”

“ACS?” Damian questioned as they entered the elevator to the fifth floor.

“Administration for Child Services.”

“So CPS,” Damian concluded, then asserted, “Drake is not abusing me.”

“I didn’t say he was.”

Damian scowled. “Then why are you suggesting foster care?”

“I was simply offering it as an option, if you really dislike your brother that much.”

The elevator dinged and Damian looked away sheepishly as she stepped past him to exit the car. Drake was fine, he supposed.

“My point was, dear, your brother chose to take care of you. He is not obligated in the least to take care of anyone. Your brother went through all the trouble of moving to New York and establishing a life as an adult, all while he should still be in school, having fun and partying, because he wanted to take care of you. That’s how much he loves you, he is giving up the rest of his teenage years and his early twenties to take care of you. To make sure you have the chance to finish growing up without being tossed into the system.”

Damian continued to avoid eye contact as the woman fished her keys out to unlock her apartment door. Damian did not need anyone to take care of him. He could take care of himself.

“You said he was adopted, right?” she questioned.

The child nodded and watched as she finally found the keys and began struggling to unlock the door with one hand. Damian reached out and took the second bag from her so she’d be able to grip the handle with one hand and turn the key with the other.

“Thanks, sweetie. He was adopted, which means he probably is aware what the system is like. He didn’t want you subjected to that. He loves you, darling. Give him a break, alright?”

Drake was never in foster care. He’d been adopted by Father before he went into the system. That’s what money did. But, regardless, Drake did know what the system was like. They all did. It was hard to be a vigilante in Gotham and not understand how corrupt the foster care system was. That didn’t stop Drake from threatening Damian with foster care, though. No. He wasn’t taking care of him out of ‘love.’ It was merely because Father would skin him alive if he found out Drake had abandoned Damian.

Right?

“Tt.” Damian followed Ms. Harrelson inside and set the groceries down on her counter. Her apartment was set up a lot like his and Drake’s, but the kitchen was lacking the island. Their apartment had clearly been renovated recently, while hers probably hadn’t been changed in 40 years.

“Do you like tea?” she asked, pulling a kettle from over the oven, “Your accent sounds slightly European.”

Right. Because being ‘European,’ which, he wasn’t, meant he had to like tea. Ugh. He loved tea. They didn’t even have tea in the apartment. Only Drake’s disgusting coffee. He missed it dearly. “Of course.”

“Good,” she beamed, “Why don’t you unpack those bags. I’ll tell you were to put everything while I make some tea for us.”

For whatever reason, Damian did as he was told and began putting away the woman’s groceries.

“When will Drake be home?”

“Tim,” Damian corrected, then blinked. Where had that even come from? Why should he care whether other people called Drake by his given name?

“What’s that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“His name is Tim,” Damian said guiltily, “Drake was his birth surname.”

She hummed disapprovingly at him. “Does he like you calling him ‘Drake?’ You don’t call him that as a jibe, do you?”

“He doesn’t care,” he replied confidently. Damian was pretty sure, at least, that Drake didn’t care. He’d never blown up about it. Tim usually blew up about stuff that bothered him. Eventually. “He’ll be home around 7.”

“Good, that gives us plenty of time to enjoy our tea.”

Damian smiled ever so slightly.

\----

When Tim got home that evening, Damian paid attention to the teenager's actions.  From the corner of his eye, of course.  Couldn't make the idiot think Damian _cared_ , or even noticed him.  

Because he didn't.  

Tim was exhausted, that much was clear.  His movements were sluggish and almost robotic as he put together dinner for the two of them.  

While they ate, Damian chanced a look up at the teen's face and just saw more of the same, tired expression.  

Maybe Tim wasn't enjoying their time trapped in this world as much as Damian had thought.  

"Drake," Damian said once he was done eating, startling the teen while he read for one of his classes.

The teen looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Can we get some tea next time we're at the store?"  Tea was nice.  It was relaxing.  It reminded Damian of home.

After a long moment of quiet consideration, Drake nodded and went back to reading.  "Yeah, kid, whatever you want just put it on the list and we'll get it."

Perhaps they should start having tea together, sometimes.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on my phone. :3 
> 
> So I was trapped in a car for 12 hours and I figured I’d write either my interludes or whumptober works, but no of course I didn't do that. My brain instead said “Hey let’s rewind time to write about Damian being 10 and cute and still angry with Tim. That was such a fun time to write about!” So now we have this. I honestly don't know the point of it.
> 
> If any of you like the idea of these, I have ideas for many more with more actual plot to them. Maybe. Like how Damian met the people he dog sat for, etc. Damian in school. Random little excursions that just didn't make it into the main story, etc. Let me know if that's something anyone would be interested in. Obviously since this is outside of the main story, I can do it from Damian's POV and that kind of opens things up.
> 
> [Tumblr](https://cdelphiki.tumblr.com)


End file.
